Darth Maul's New Possession
by Grey Gardenia
Summary: Darth Maul has received a new possession: a woman who will increase his powers if he engages in intercourse with her, and possess her he does. Rated for sex.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. If I did, Darth Maul would never have died. Not only that, I would be in it as well, with him. :D

She is a beautiful human specimen if you cared to look close enough, thought Darth Maul. Long black hair framed round cheeks, a straight little nose, almond eyes and curved brows, the shape of which somehow pleased him. Her small mouth was slightly parted, and the smell of her fear was heavy in the air.

"Where did you get her, Master?" he asked of the old man beside her.

"I found her in A'hinc, about to be taken in by a band of ruffians. Her Force signature is strong, for one entirely untrained in the Arts, wouldn't you agree?"

He did. He could reach out with his mind and touch it, pulsing warm and gently. He had rarely met someone who was neither Jedi nor Sith who could do so. Nonetheless, if she had no training, what use was she? Even if his master wished to take another apprentice, she did not look strong, was in fact slim and small of stature, and she was far too old to begin training anyways. The Dark Side took its followers early in life.

His master heard his thoughts and answered. "I have a theory that she will be of some use to you, my apprentice. Her Force might, with time, have an amplifying effect on your own, and thereby increase your powers admirably. Such cases are not unknown."

"How is this to be accomplished, Master?" Would he have to perform some ancient Sith ritual with her? Most of them involved pain, he knew from experience, and he wondered how her tiny little body would hold up. Her Force signature may be strong, but certainly her physicality would limit her abilities. Yet, he found the idea exciting. He suddenly wanted very much to touch her. He had never felt this way about a human before, being that humans were generally one of the weaker species capable of combat. Maul had never been a creature of sympathy; he worshipped power. But this one, she was different altogether.

"Well," said Darth Sidious, turning around and moving toward the door, "you must take her as your wife."

"Marriage is a human concept," said Maul with disdain, without thinking.

"Your partner then, or whatever term you Iridonians use." He paused at the door. "You will have intercourse with her, and her Force will respond to yours. Then a bond will be formed, and you will find your abilities not only rejuvenated, but expanded in various capacities."

"You want me to take her as my mate?" Maul was dubious and surprised, although his voice was still disdainful. Iridonian mating practices were rather rough, as they were a strong and aggressive race to begin with, and he wasn't sure if she could amplify his Force if she was utterly battered by forceful sex. His mouth grew dry at the thought, looking down at the kneeling girl, whose head had remained slightly bowed this whole time.

"I'm sure you will not encounter any difficulties, Darth Maul. I have explained things to her on the way back from A'hinc. I wish you good luck." With that, his master left the room, closing the door behind him with finality.

Maul stood before her in silence contemplation. Then he said, "So you understand what must be done?"

"I understand I have no choice in the matter." She still kept her eyes to the floor, her posture completely subservient, and yet her reply was swift and clipped. He did not like it and was suddenly filled with contempt for her.

He activated his lightsaber and held it frightfully close to her face, illuminating her visage with its red glow. He saw her eyes widen and her head move away from it slightly. "You will address me as 'my lord' at all times, or you will become very familiar with my weapon here," he said in a steely voice. "Your function is not necessary and be sure I do not exaggerate when I say that I will be glad to kill you if you overstep your boundaries."

Through the Force, he felt her mind holding back a retort. She said, with some measure of hesitance, "Yes, my lord."

"Stand. And look me in the eye." His voice allowed for no objections.

She obeyed, and a gasp escaped from her little mouth as she took in his height and the breadth of his shoulders, the vibrant red of his skin and the frightening jet-black tattoos on his face. His eyes were especially shocking; the pupils were yellow rimmed in red, with small black irises. His head was crowned with horns. She was too scared to even step back.

He bared his teeth at her in a terrible grin.

"Not what you were expecting?"

And then, with an unseen swiftness, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her along behind him. She sucked in a sudden breath of air when his skin touched hers; it was much hotter than a human's. She stumbled along behind him, her heart pounding recklessly against her ribcage. He was leading her to an inner room, she realized, where a padded mat lay on the floor. There was nothing else.

Beside this mat he stopped and released her wrists abruptly, as though he could not wait to stop touching her.

"Remove your clothing," he ordered, himself shrugging off the voluminous black cloak he wore and tossing in into a corner.

Biting her lip, tentatively, slowly, she unbuttoned her outer layers and dropped them to the ground. But these new clothes that the old man had given her, she did not know how to get them off. There were buttons and zippers and ties in the back that she could not reach. She wondered, briefly, how Coruscantis ever got dressed and undressed properly. As she struggled with a particularly troublesome hook, she noticed Maul gazing coolly at her with his yellow eyes, impatient at her ignorance. Without his cloak she could see that he was wearing a suit of black robes.

"I cannot see how it is to be undone," she said softly, apologetically.

He gestured for her to turn around, to which she complied, feeling utterly exposed. How strange that he should remove my clothing for me, she thought, blushing. A second of silence passed before she felt a strange tugging from either side of her back, and then the rip and flutter of cloth as it fell from her body. Surprised, she looked down at the pile of clothing and turned to face him. He had not moved from his position on the other side of the mat.

"I used the Force," he explained to her unvoiced question.

"You have ruined my new clothes," she said, stupidly, she realized.

"They are unimportant," he retorted. And then, "You have never been taken?"

"T-taken?" she stammered, noticing his cool indifference to her naked body. Goosebumps rose on the surface of her exposed flesh.

"You are untouched?"

"Oh. Yes. I mean, no, I have never been touched." The pretty pink of her blush burned brighter against her pale skin. Would he be gentler to her for it? She wondered.

"Then it will be harder for both of us." He unbuckled and removed his belt, and then shed the rest of his robes until he was as naked as she was, and just as unabashed about his own nudity as he was about hers. Without his billowing black clothing, he looked even more fearful than before, completely revealed to her in his true glorious red and black musculature. Her knees betrayed her and she fell to the floor in sheer astonishment.

He looked down at her with a fierce mix of arrogance and contempt. "Do I disgust you?" He did not ask as though he cared that she should think well of him; he asked as though he wanted her disgust very much.

"You are like the demon of the old tales from my home system," she replied in a whisper.

His heightened senses picked up on her nervous anticipation, her fear, and her awe of him. He could smell the heat of her. It was not flowery or sweet, but rather, exquisitely warm and comforting, if a scent could be so. Her nipples were hardened from the cold of the room, and the air of her lungs went in and out in breathy little gasps.

"Lay down," said Maul, gesturing to the mat. When she did so, her eyes still fixed upon him, he kneeled down and then loomed over her, suspended by a muscled arm on either side of her head. The proximity of his heated flesh elicited a tiny squeak from her, and then a whimper as his head bent down to her neck and, with a broad swath of black tongue, licked the sensitive skin there. Then his head traveled lower, rubbing his face on her breasts before licking the hardened nipples as well. She mewled and arched her back, moving underneath him.

_I am your master, and you will serve me only_, he said by Force, planting the order deep within her mind. _You will seek to pleasure me, and you will give me the power I seek._ She nodded her head. "Yes," she moaned.

"Yes, what?" he demanded quietly, one of his hands coming up to grasp her breast and squeeze it roughly.

"Yes, my lord," she said breathily.

He rewarded her by covering a nipple with his wet, warm mouth. His hand released the other breast and drifted lower to find her excited nether lips already moist. Without preamble, he slid in one finger and was pleased to hear her cry out, although from pain or pleasure, he knew not. With long, torturous strokes he stretched her tiny opening as her hips bucked involuntarily against his finger.

She raised her head to look, and saw not only his nimble digit stroking her womanhood, but also his manhood of considerable size, proudly jutting and ramrod straight below the ridges of his abdomen. She suddenly felt very hot and wet. "Oh my lord," she panted, throwing her head back onto the mat.

He raised his head from her breast and removed his finger, watching her lovely flushed skin and the shuddering reaction of her body to his administrations. He was pleased. Unexpectedly, his arm wrapped itself around her waist and flipped her, so that she suddenly found herself on her stomach, and her backside once again exposed to him.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered. She raised herself and complied without hesitation.

He shifted his position above her so that she could feel his great length between her legs, and his muscled chest was pressed against her back, warming her entire body. Her body shook with anticipation.

And then, she felt it pushing into her, and it felt much larger than it had looked earlier. She gave a startled cry. His reply was a grunt of concentration as he gave another shove, and this time it went further, stretching her unused hole considerably. Then she felt his hips retreating, and was both relieved and scared. But his hips and cock came back, this time vengefully bursting through her maidenhood with such force that her arms could not hold her up, and she collapsed forwards. His large hands grabbed both sides of her hips to steady himself as he began moving out of her, almost completely out, and then again completely back in. She cried out piteously beneath him, her tears wetting the mat. It was so large! She felt as though it were splitting her apart.

"My lord!" she sobbed. "It hurts! You're hurting me!"

But he seemed not to hear her. His breath came hot and heavy, and he began to growl in unison with the increasing tempo of his thrusts. The head of his cock pounded against her with bruising force. Her body was providing its own defenses against his assault now; she was slicker than ever, and her muscles gradually relaxed to better accommodate his size, and then she felt something that was neither pain nor pleasure, but the most exquisite mix of both. Her body was opening itself up to its attacker, as a tender flower does for a bee.

His head was close to hers, and his primal growling encouraged her moaning. She began to move her hips as well, pushing against his groin so that with both of them moving together, his cock pushed in even deeper, hitting the very core of her being, the opening of her womb. She felt something glorious building within her, and as he pounded away, it grew bigger and bigger and finally exploded with a burst of light behind her eyelids. Her whole body shuddered and collapsed upon the mat. Above her, Maul's thrusts became ever more erratic, and then his body tightened and a spurt of heat shot into her womb and he fell over her body like a hard muscular shield. She could not help noticing, even through the haze of the ecstasy of her own quietly pulsing muscles, that he was still quite rigid and still rooted deeply within her. This was very strange to her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could find the words to ask her question, he said, "I am not a human male, and therefore, I can do things that human males cannot."

"Oh," she said. She felt perfectly content at the moment, and him being still inside her did not discomfort her at all. In fact, now that his arm was around her waist, and her head rested perfectly between the curve of his shoulder and his broad pectoral, she was very comfortable and sleepy. He was very warm. She mewled softly against his chest and then fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Darth Maul Chapter 2

She woke when the pulsing warmth around her began to shift away, and she was suddenly left feeling quite cold. Cracking open an eye, it took her some moments to remember where she was, in a starkly furnished room, lying naked on a sleeping mat. And the black and red demon from yesterday was sitting beside her, thus accounting for the sudden lack of heat, for there were no blankets or sheets. She began to shiver, and could not tell if it was because of the cold air in the room, or his presence, or both. She ached from where he had taken her last night.

She too sat up, rubbing her arms. Her new lord and master was seated with his legs crossed, a hand upon each knee, breathing deeply and with his terrifying yellow eyes closed. He seemed not to have noticed her awakening.

"You are cold. I suppose you need garments." This he said without opening his eyes. He raised his hand, and the black robes that he had so negligently tossed into the corner from the previous night flew into his palm. "You can wear these until you are given more suitable clothing."

She bit her lip and took the robes. They were tailored specifically to him, she guessed, which meant that they were horribly large on her small frame, trailing two feet onto the floor. I look more like a clothes hanger than a person wearing clothes, she thought suddenly, and gave a small chuckle. The material was good, soft and non-irritating, but heavy.

"What are you called?" he asked, although still seemingly deep in meditation.

"Elyrhis." Then, remembering his threat from yesterday, she hastily added, "My lord."

"And your family name?"

"I have none."

"You were a slave?"

"Aren't I still? My lord?"

His great yellow and red eyes opened, and his head turned so that his intense gaze was fixed upon her face. "You have not yet truly experienced slavery. Perhaps legally, in those silly rulebooks written by greasy politicians, yes, you belong to someone in name and in deed. But you have never been possessed utterly, in body and soul. You have never been so completely under the rule of someone else that without so much as a twitch of their finger, you find yourself doing things you never would have done otherwise."

Her brow furrowed, wondering what he meant. "I'll have you know, my lord, that I have been a slave all my—"

And then she felt it, a tugging, although no one was tugging her. The very air around her became a vacuum, sucking her towards him, closer and closer, even as she fought against it, until her breasts pressed firmly, luridly, against his muscled arm. As she struggled against his invisible hold on her, panting slightly, her breath skittered across his skin, arousing a faint shudder within him.

Then he waved his hand in a quick, careless gesture, knocking her four feet away with her back pressed against the cold wooden floor, shocked. As she sat back up, stunned and disbelieving, he stood up. "So you see," he said icily from his high vantage point, "what you have known before is nothing in comparison."

Darth Maul walked to one wall of the room, which she now noticed was comprised entirely of drawers. He opened one and pulled out fresh robes, which he then donned himself, covering the wild art that was his body.

"My lord?"

"Speak," he said, tying the sash around his waist.

"What exactly is expected of me? I mean…" she blushed, "aside from what we did last night? Do you want me to clean your house and wash your clothes or something? Because you know, I won't do it. You can hire people to do that sort of work, and I've been doing that my entire life."

"No. That is work for servants. You are my personal slave. You will do as I require of you, whenever I ask it, wherever I ask it."

"And what might a Sith Lord require of his personal slave?"

He did not miss the defiant mockery in her voice, and so did not reply to her question. He did, however, level a stare at her that was so intense and bright that she shuddered. _Those eyes,_ she thought. _He could kill with those._

"What if I become pregnant?" she blurted out, the thought only just occurring to her. _What if I give birth to a monster with eyes like that? With a head like that?_

"I don't know if that's possible," he said, his lightsaber zooming into his right hand from its place beside the door. "We are, after all, two entirely different species."

"Not different enough to stop you from putting yourself inside of me! Not different enough for you to keep from squirting that wet stuff on my thighs!" She stood up, thinking that she would feel more courageous if she was closer to his towering height, but her legs were sore and had trouble supporting her weight. She felt herself falling.

In an instant, he was beside her, his arms around and underneath her, and she was surrounded by that wonderful warmth again. He smelled dark and masculine, and radiated heat. "Thank you," she murmured, as he set her down gently.

"I don't apologize for anything. But if I hurt you last night, know that it was not my intention. I know very little in the ways of human females, but, as you will soon see for yourself, I am an exceedingly quick learner. If you do indeed carry any offspring of mine, I will see to your safety as well as theirs."

"But you're a killer," she said pointedly. She could practically smell the blood on his hands, read it within the glow of his eyes. "You're a Sith Lord!"

"Nonetheless. To turn my back upon my mate and children is against nature itself. Even the Dark Side of the Force would not allow it."

She cast her eyes down. This wasn't the answer she'd expected. Like everyone else, she'd heard the rumors about the Dark Side of the Force, that it made monsters of otherwise very talented warriors, and that these monsters would do all manner of cruel and gruesome things in their quest to obtain more power. She hadn't expected Darth Maul to say something so generous. And the she remembered something.

"What did Senator Palpatine mean yesterday when he said that I would help you to grow stronger?"

"I don't know. If you cannot stand, you may stay in this room and rest for the day. Otherwise, I would like you to come with me."

"Where are you going?"

"Training."

Every muscle was tuned and well-oiled like a new machine. Every slash, every leap, every flick of the finger was controlled with steely precision that spoke of years and years of devoted training.

'I suppose the Dark Arts are like any other form of art,' thought Elyrhis, seated on a downy cushion in a glass-walled observatory room, her eyes focused upon her master, who was leaping acrobatically through his combat practice, which consisted of computer generated holographs that responded to his every movement, much as a real opponent would. 'His body, certainly, is a work of art.'

She blushed upon reaching this thought, her mind straying back to their activities of last night. She did wonder- just how often and how intensely would they repeat such an exercise? If every night would be a repeat of last night, she doubted she would ever be able to walk again!

Darth Maul had been at it all day. He had denied food, water, and rest throughout, much to Elyrhis' surprise. Surely such a body, so broad in frame and muscular in build, would require much nourishment to sustain its vigorous activities. But then she remembered that he was not a human like her. She, on the other hand, was not above accepting the food brought to her by a service droid. She had never had such good food in her life, which had, until then, mainly consisted of living on the streets and scavenging what she could, or begging, if she got really desperate. People always seemed surprised when a girl her age begged. Probably because so few homeless and stray people lived to her age.

Now, however, she saw that he was finally gearing down to stop. It had been exciting to watch him, but now she was truly curious as to what they would do next. Was this how she was to spend her days now? To sit in a little room all day while he fought digitally constructed foes?

Darth Maul retracted his red lightsaber. He opened and walked through a door to the left of his large training space, which was then connected to the observatory room. When he entered, Elyrhis wobbled to her feet and did her best to bow without falling forwards. Thankfully, she succeeded.

He was not at all sweaty or out of breath, even with a good six hours of almost constant and robust motion, she noticed. He was, however, scowling slightly.

"Come," he intoned in his deep voice. "We go now to my shop."

"You have a store?" Elyrhis couldn't keep her surprise hidden.

"No. It is a mechanical workshop. I build most of my own weaponry." He turned back out of the room, and Elyrhis wobbled after him.

"Oh. Like your lightsaber?" she asked.

"Among other things." His voice was clipped and short. She wondered if he was more tired than he let on.

He led her to the end of a corridor, where an elevator stood with its doors opened. They entered its small space, and he pressed a button indicating that they move down a floor. Elyrhis knew that their living accommodations were above the combat floor. All day, they had not once stepped out of doors. Compared to her old life of constantly living on the streets, today had seemed luxurious to her. But it was still strange.

"Do you never go outside?" she asked. "My lord," she added hastily.

"Often. When I have a mission."

The elevator stopped, its doors slid open, and Darth Maul stepped up to a large metal door standing before them. To the side of the door was a retinal, hand, and voice scanner. After passing the scanner's tests, the doors slid slowly open to reveal a room such as Elyrhis had never seen before.

It was all one, enormous room, even larger than the combat room the floor above them. Along all four of its high-ceilinged walls hung various mechanical equipment, of all shapes, sizes, and uses. There were numerous benches, desks, and work stations scattered about the room, most with some sort of unfinished machine on them. The room was brightly lit, like a museum.

"This is all yours?" she asked, mouth gaping open.

"This building is my master's. He procured it for my use. Anything I need, he supplies." He strode forwards, up to a workstation with what looked like a speeder on it. It seemed to be finished, although the outside was unpainted or detailed. Maul put his hand over the junction of its handlebars and looked at it closely.

Elyrhis could not judge the expression of his face. It was something akin to fondness, but fiercer and more prideful. As well, his face was generally inscrutable. She stepped forwards cautiously to get a better look at the speeder. It had the look of a fish about it, with foot rests that extended from the bottom on both sides like spiny flippers, and a curved spine. Tentatively, she reached out and touched the seat of it.

"Bloodfin," he said suddenly, taking his hands off the handlebar.

She withdrew her own hand quickly. "What?"

"I have named her Bloodfin."

"She's beautiful," she whispered, reaching out to touch it once again. Was there any limit to his talents?

"She is," he agreed, although he wasn't looking at the speeder. He was looking at her, and rather pointedly. He found her questioning face vulnerable and utterly appealing. With a lightning-quick motion, he reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her tight against him, eliciting a gasp from her.

"Today while I was training I noticed nothing different about my mind and body or its abilities from what they were yesterday," he growled. "I was promised more power. You were supposed to give it to me."

Terrified and entranced by his closeness, his crowned head and topaz-yellow eyes, Elyrhis' mouth opened but no words came out.

'She is so scared,' he thought with relish. 'I could kill her right now, and she would not even be able to struggle.' It paid to look like a demon after all.

"Why am I no different, slave?" he rumbled in her face, baring his sharp teeth. "Aren't you here to serve me and my purposes?"

"I know nothing, my lord!" she squeaked. Her eyes shut with fright, and her hands found purchase on his robes. She fisted the material tightly, and then loosened her hold, and then tightened again, as if she was unsure whether she wanted him closer or farther away.

The scent of her fear was more appealing to him than he could ever have guessed. 'Perhaps,' he thought, 'more sex is needed. In which case, I have no qualms about increasing the odds.'

He backed her up against the work table, and pressed down until her torso was lying on it, and her legs hanging off the edge. She gazed up at him, surprised and apprehensive. He lowered his head between her breasts, closed his glowing eyes, and took a deep breath, drawing in the warm and alluring scent of her. He then raised his head to look at her as his hands traversed up her thighs to her hips, lifting the material of her skirt as they traveled higher and higher. Leaning forwards to lick and bite softly her neck, he ground his hips against hers.

This time, he felt it—a spark within himself. It filled him, and it filled her, he could tell. 'Is this it? Is this the power she is supposed to give me?' He felt her trembling beneath him, her pink mouth in a perfect O as she arched and writhed. And then, a rush of warmth that enveloped them both, she on the table and him above, until everything stilled to a glow.

Story Notes:

The whole concept of this developed because I was wondering if Maul was even capable of love. Someone so ruthless and totally indoctrinated in the ways of the Dark Side… it just appealed to me. And I figured that the only way he would even allow someone other than Sidious to grow close to him is if he was promised more strength. He just seems like that sorta guy.

Bloodfin, by the way, is the actual name of his speederbike. Maul was known to employ a special skill called "mechu-deru", which basically combines his Force powers with mechanical prowess, allowing him to create and personalize much of his own tools. A man in charge of his own technology, as it were.


	3. Chapter 3

**The galaxy was **really a wondrous place, thought Elyrhis. Sitting behind Lord Maul on his beloved Bloodfin, she was on her first speederbike ride. These past few weeks were full of firsts for her.

Her life had settled into a comfortable pattern. Every morning she would wake to find her lord meditating. A service-droid would bring her some breakfast and tea; this was a luxury for Elyrhis, as she was still not used to being served. But she accepted this new aspect readily, for it was much easier to sit and receive food than to scavenge for it in trash cans on dirty street corners with her own hands.

Immediately after breakfast, they proceeded to the training room. Although six straight hours of watching her lord do his athletics did not bore her in the least, Elyrhis had managed to get her hands on some needles and thread, and busied herself during Lord Maul's training hours with mending his robes. She found much of his clothing tattered and singed in places from past battles, the ferocity of which she could only imagine from the state of his clothes. And although there were droids to do his mending, she liked the archaic feel of fixing cloth. It made her feel useful to Lord Maul in a way that she otherwise wouldn't be. She imagined herself a little housewife.

Sometimes during Darth Maul's training sessions Senator Palpatine would grace them with his presence. "A master must keep abreast of his apprentice's progress, after all," he told her. She suspected it was also to see for himself if her so-called Force prowess did indeed have a magnifying effect on Maul's abilities.

If Palpatine came to visit them, they would have a meal together after Darth Maul's training session. Elyrhis found her master's master to be sophisticated and full of interesting things to say. His knowledge was broad and impressive, and his conversations arresting.

"Do you know, my dear," he once said, addressing her over their afternoon meal, "that the Jedi forbid attachments?"

Elyrhis poured tea into his cup, and then into Maul's. "No, er…" At this point she was still unsure as to what she was supposed to call him. On one hand, it wouldn't hurt to call him 'Master', as Maul did, but that wouldn't be entirely right. And 'Lord Sith' or 'Darth Sidious' seemed to imply too little and too much at the same time. In the end she decided that 'Senator' was the safest way to go.

"No, Senator, I didn't know that."

"They believe," said Palpatine over his tea, "that if a Jedi had strong emotions for someone, it would cloud their judgment when they needed it most, and render them incapable of unbiased reason. Such is the foolishness of Jedi, wouldn't you agree, my apprentice?"

"Yes," was Darth Maul's monosyllabic answer. He was usually silent during these meals. He would listen intently, but say little.

"My theory," continued Palpatine, "is that a strong attachment is vital to reaching an individual's secret reservoir of strength. If you can activate your deepest emotions, that reservoir would be tapped, and you would find yourself capable of actions that would previously be completely foreign to you. Passion breeds strength."

Maul and Elyrhis always, without fail, agreed with whatever Palpatine said, for two reasons. The first reason was because there was never a need to disagree; the Sith Lord was never wrong. The second reason was because to disagree with him could spell instant death.

In any case, Palpatine never stayed for very long. Leading a double life required a skillful balance of time and commitments, and as his public life was important and officious, he had to show himself to the world often. Therefore, he always took his leave after their meal.

This left Elyrhis and Maul alone again for a few hours before nightfall. They spent this time in the workshop. Elyrhis had little interest in mechanics, but she enjoyed watching her master using his large, strong hands to manipulate tiny wires and miniscule parts of his weapons. It amazed her that someone so brutal and large was also capable of working the smallest pieces into perfection.

And afterwards, there was every night the best part of the day.

Elyrhis learned that her master could be fast or slow; languorous and languid or fierce and ferocious. His potency amazed her; his virility fascinated her. He had proven himself capable of tenderness as well as violence.

**They were now **zooming through the driest desert Elyrhis had ever seen in her life. It was a wasteland: there was hardly any vegetation, and absolutely no animals that she could see. She had learned enough from her past weeks of living with Maul that if he didn't want you to know something, you would never learn it.

"Where are we going?" she'd asked as she packed the new clothes Palpatine had acquired for her. She knew only that they would be on a short trip away from Coruscant.

But her question had been met with stony silence.

"Where are we going?" she'd asked again after they'd boarded Maul's private cruiser, a sleek and shiny S-1612 Rex. He piloted it himself.

And again, she was met with silence. A tree was more talkative than her master, she decided then and there. She pitied any enemy who might try to torture him for information. Then again, he would never be caught in a situation like that.

Her master had been decidedly strange throughout the four hours of flight. He spoke not a single word, and his gaze was distant. Elyrhis, giving up, napped.

She woke with a start to find him crouched in front of her. This would not have been so strange if his hand was not right in her face, his thumb pressing gently in the middle of her forehead. She was still bleary from sleep, and blinked at him confusedly.

"Mmm…" he rumbled. It wasn't a word or even a groan. It was like a very deep purr coming from his chest. And then he rose to his feet and said, "Come."

Whereupon he took Bloodfin from the cargo area of the cruiser, and they both got on.

**After about another** hour of zooming on Bloodfin, Elyrhis began to notice changes in the environment around them. Here and there she saw patches of forests, and sometimes even farms. As they sped along, they seemed to be entering a more densely inhabited area, but it was still nothing like Coruscant, or even her native and poor A'hinc. The buildings were low and squat, and made of earthly materials.

And then Maul began to slow down his speeder. They were approaching a small village, it seemed. It contained a sprinkling of dwellings and a large central square, marked by a pattern of inlaid pebbles. At the very center was a large bonfire, continually kept alive by two small creatures that Elyrhis could not see well from her position behind Maul.

At the edge of the square he stopped Bloodfin and swung his leg off. Elyrhis slid to the ground as well, noticing as she did that their arrival had attracted some of the inhabitants of the village, both adults and younglings, all with red skin and yellow eyes, dressed in barely there rags. Elyrhis remembered a time when she wore such things too. Now, she was fully dressed as befit a lady of Coruscant, in cool silks and nylons.

With astonishment she saw that all the full grown adults had horns on their heads. Some had the same pattern as Maul, and some had only one, growing from the center of their foreheads. With a start she realized that the ones with one horn were females, and the ones with several were male. Something within her clicked.

'That was why he touched my forehead earlier,' she thought. 'He was saying to himself, 'This is where it would be, if she were like me.''

Maul stepped forward into the square. He looked at the bystanders around him. He was utterly imposing, in his heavy black robes and full height. The fact that he had fearsome designs on his skin made him even more impressive. Some of the bystanders looked away, unable to stand his gaze.

"I am looking for the village elder," said Maul.

"Who are you?" snarled a large male, standing next to a nearby dwelling. He was only a little taller than Maul, but he was much wider. His arms bulged with muscle.

"Either take me to him or bring him to me," said Maul to the people in general, ignoring the male's question.

"Who are you to come and make demands on us?" howled the male, furious at being ignored. He had stepped away from his house and was advancing on Maul with a club in his hand.

Maul simply held up his hand, and suddenly the huge male was flying through the air. He slammed into the side of his own dwelling with a loud crack. Roaring, he rose up again, shaking his head furiously. "Who are you?" he yelled.

"That is not information you need to know," said Maul coldly. He had not even drawn his lightsaber.

But now the large male was not the only one angry. All the other villagers watching began hissing and screeching at Maul as well. "Why are you here?" "Who are you to look for the elder?" "We will never take you to him!"

Elyrhis, still standing by Bloodfin, shuddered and rubbed her ears. The words sounded strange to her, slippery and rough at the same time, and some of the sounds were oddly stretched. Nonetheless, she could understand it well enough, even if the way these people spoke baffled her. But then she realized that Lord Maul's voice sounded like that too, and she wondered why.

"So, you bring a human to our village, do you, son?"

It was a weak, wheezy voice, but somehow it floated above everyone's noise and reached every ear. It was penetrating and arresting.

"No one comes without surrendering to us their identity, and no one goes without leaving something behind. Or have you forgotten the rules of your own village, Khamier?"

A wizened male hobbled out of the largest and most decorated dwelling. His skin, which had been a brilliant red when he was young and in his prime, had now faded to a sort of pinkish mauve.

Maul did not move. He looked defiant. "So you are the village elder," he said.

"Are you a Zabrak or not?" asked the elderly male, sounding angry. "Are you one of us?"

"I am a Zabrak, but I am not one of you. Not anymore."

"If you are a Zabrak, as your horns and your skin give away, you will call me Father. I know you, Khamier. I remember how much you hated having to say it when you were young, before you were taken away from us. And how you hated being called 'son'. It seems you have not changed."

"I have changed," Maul refuted. "But you will never know how much."

"No," said the elderly Zabrak. "Even then your heart was black. You may have markings on your skin now, and a sword made of light, but you are the same Khamier now as you were when the sorcerer stole you away."

"If you know my name, I need not give it. I have come because I need something. Let me warn you, Father, it would be unwise to deny me my request."

The village elder leaned forward on his knotted cane. "So you are finally going to comply. Well, I know what you have come for, my son. I can see it threaded between you and the human. I wonder why you chose her."

He turned around and hobbled back into the house he came out of. Maul looked at Elyrhis, who understood that they were to follow him. Together, they walked into the darkness of the village elder's dwelling.


	4. Chapter 4

**As Elyrhis followed **Maul into the village elder's dark, smoky hut, she was struck with three revelations at once, all of which she should have grasped earlier, but hadn't fully comprehended until the moment she stepped upon the threshold.

The first revelation was that Lord Maul had actually been born here, in this obsolete and dusty village. The second was that all the fully mature villagers, including the elderly shaman, had facial tattoos, though none of them so bold and starkly defiant as Maul's. The third revelation was that he had a real name, or rather, a name not relevant to his life as a Sith of the Dark Side. Somehow it had never occurred to her that her master had once been a child, had once been young and vulnerable. She had never known him to rely on anyone besides Palpatine.

In the center of the square hut was a small fire, and above the fire sat a pot, etched with complex designs that gave off a slight golden glow. A female Zabrak, dressed in a proper robe rather than rags, stood by the pot, stirring. It was too dark to make out the color of her skin or her robe, but her eyes were very bright. The space to the right of the pot seemed to be the living quarters, and the space to the left of the pot was cluttered with an assortment of strange things: various bones, feathers, jars, dried plants, etc.

The village elder led them to the right side, and seated himself on a cushion on the floor. He waved his hand at the female Zabrak. "Daughter, I have brought guests to our house. You may perhaps remember Khamier? He has grown much since we last saw him."

The female looked at Maul and nodded in acknowledgement. "Brother," she said simply in greeting, showing neither recognition nor overt politeness.

"Sister," replied Maul, moving his head only slightly in return. He lowered himself on a cushion in front of the village elder's.

Elyrhis, not having been acknowledged, stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"You may sit," said Maul to her.

Glad to have a direct order, she too sank onto a cushion. The female Zabrak continued stirring her pot, watching the trio on the floor with interest.

"You said you already know why I am here," said Maul.

The village elder let out a wheezy snort that Elyrhis took to be a guffaw. "Of course I do. You're here to prove me wrong, after all these years. Me, and everyone else. And you're going to do it with her," He nodded at Elyrhis.

He leveled a golden yellow stare at her, who gulped nervously.

"I'm sorry," she burst out suddenly. "But I don't even know what's going on. Please tell me what any of this has to do with me."

The village elder recoiled, his eyes widened and astonished. He looked at Maul suspiciously. "What did she just say? Can she understand us?"

"Yes, I suspect so," said Maul calmly, as Elyrhis sat beside him, absolutely befuddled. "It is because of the bonding between her and me. She has been listening all this while, but unless I am mistaken, hasn't realized why she can understand us until now."

Elyrhis blushed. Worse than the fact that she was a fool was the fact that her master was aware of it more fully than she herself was.

"You have already initiated the bonding? You have already taken the first step then, I see. You are already a part of her, and she is already a part of you." The elderly Zabrak looked at him shrewdly. "So you think you're ready then? You think you are worthy enough for it now?"

"I need this." Maul's voice was thick with conviction. "One way or another, I will have it. You, of all people, know what I am capable of."

"That I do." The village elder folded his robes. "That I do. Since you have already initiated the bonding, there is little purpose in denying you. But then, you didn't come to give me a choice, did you, son? So I will do it."

"Thank you Father," said Maul, with a slight tic in his jaw. Elyrhis could tell that it was taking him a lot of control to show deference to someone besides Palpatine.

"But not today," continued the village elder. "I need time to prepare the necessary ingredients. A few days, perhaps."

"I don't have that much time to wait, Father," said Maul, his tic becoming more pronounced.

The elderly Zabrak glared at him. "You must understand, my son, I have never done it this way before. Never with a human woman. If you cannot wait a few days, then it will not be done."

A tense silence followed this proclamation. Then, Maul grudgingly nodded.

"We will wait."

"I knew you would. You may sleep and stay here while I prepare. Daughter," said the village elder to the female by the pot, "you can sleep under someone else's roof to make room for Khamier and the human."

"No." Maul stood up. "We came on a ship. We will stay there. I will come again every day to check your progress. There is no need to come look for us, so do not send anyone to try."

"**My lord," Elyrhis **began as the door to the S-1612 Rex slid open. They were back at the cruiser's landing spot, and Bloodfin had been safely stored back into the cargo hold. Maul had said nothing on the dry ride home, and Elyrhis, too busy pondering the strange meeting with the village elder, had decided to hold her tongue. Until now. Everything was just getting too confusing for her. "Why are we here? What was the village elder talking about?"

Maul lowered himself onto one of the seats in the main cabin of the cruiser, looking uncharacteristically tired. He rubbed his forehead, eyes downcast. Elyrhis kneeled at his feet, hands placed on his knees, looking up into her master's face.

"I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you," he said. "I suppose…"

"Yes?" she prompted.

"I suppose this all began when I was a young Zabrak, here on Iridonia," he said. "You've probably figured out by now that my real name is Khamier, not Darth Maul. Of course, Darth Maul is just the name my master gave me."

She nodded.

He was silent for a moment, and then said, "That's where this all began, in the days before I met my master…"

**Story Notes:**

Sorry for not updating in so long! I've been on vacation for the past 6 weeks, and then I've been getting ready to start school again. But here it is, and the next update will be very soon. Also, I apologize for not having lived up to the M-rating for the past few chapters. It will come in the next chapter, I promise! Chapter 5 will be considerably darker.

For those of you who don't know, Darth Maul's home system is Iridonia, and he is of the Zabrak species. Iridonia has an extremely harsh climate, notably its dry desserts, and as a result, Zabraks evolved to become an extremely hardy, stubborn, and determined race. According to one of my sources, Iridonia actually exploded in a war prior to _The Phantom Menace_, but I only learned this after writing the last two chapters, and decided that I liked my idea too much to change it now, so please forgive me for any liberties taken.

_Khamier_ has not been confirmed to be his true, canonical name, but it is a popular fan suspect, and I like the sound of it, so there it is.

**For My Reviewers:**

Charlie-Curtis, Cranberries: I hope these chapters satisfy you!

EKora: I'm grateful for your thoughts and suggestions as always, especially since I suspect that you're much more knowledgeable about the Star Wars universe than I am. 

DJFireHawk: Thank you! I don't think much of the twists, as of yet. Maybe there will be more and better to come. I love Maul as well! I wish we'd seen more of him in the movies. He's a very intriguing character. I love the _idea_ of Maul, but I also worship Obi-Wan.

Gizzi: I did think about leaving it as a oneshot, actually, but you know, when an idea gets a hold of you, you just can't let it go. So I had no choice but to continue. As to what Maul is up to, well, that will be soon to come.


	5. Chapter 5

**Flashback to 46 BBY. Maul/Khamier is about 8 Standard Years old. **

Zabraks, in particular the Iridonian subspecies, are known for their short childhoods, rapid pubescent growth, and early sexual maturity. The typical Iridonian Zabrak male reaches sexual maturity at the age of 10, a rite of passage marked by the full protrusion of his cranial horns. Iridonia, being a harsh and punishing world, forced its chief inhabitants to grow short, stout, and compact bodies, the better to retain and use scarce nutrients. Evolutionary and biological necessity shaped Zabraks to be small and to require low maintenance.

In this sense, Khamier had been different from the start. In comparison to his fellow age-mates, he was massive, with the height and width of a fully grown male when he was no older than eight harvest cycles. His crown of thorns, a point of vanity for any Zabrak, were hard as rocks and well developed.

He was also strong. He was the best wrestler in any of the villagers nearby, and every other youngling knew better than to pick a fight with him. And he had powers, dangerous powers, that all were wary of.

In another life, another setting, he might have become successful and powerful. But his family was poor, and no one knew who his father was. He was destined to a life forever in the village, picking at dirt and roots.

There was a focus to his life, though. Her name was N'ilaani.

Later in life Maul would forget almost everything about the village, and almost everything about her. But what remained of his memories were enough to evoke a well of emotions: bright orange skin that glowed like a _napaii_ fruit glistening with dew, the moist, mobile mouth, gleaming purple eyes, the short but slender and graceful limbs, and the lovely facial tattoos she'd received during her rite of passage; thin, silvery arches that interlocked and glittered. Most of all, the elegant curve of her single horn.

But she was two harvest cycles older than him, not a youngling, and not poor. And she was betrothed, set to be bonded with an older male of another village.

None of this stunted Khamier's obsession with her, though.

When she went out in the mornings to gather _e'iia_ nuts or wild fungus in the desert, he followed her with his eyes. When she sang in her hut he crept to the door and listened. He haunted her footsteps, but she never knew. It was hopeless, futilely hopeless, he knew. Until, that is, he discovered what he was capable of.

It started out with small things: levitating pebbles, moving strands of weeds with his mind. Soon, very soon though, he could be seen rolling huge boulders outside the village, without laying a hand on them. People whispered fearfully, all sorts of things, that he had been blessed by angels, that he was cursed by demons. That he _was_ a demon.

But the pure and simple truth of it was that Khamier was powerful in the ways of the Force. He learned that his mind could be trained, and his skills stoked and fine-tuned. He made no secret of his ability to move things with his mind, but he also had a secret power that he didn't tell anyone. He had learned how to get his way, how to reach out and control the wills of others, to influence their thoughts and occupy their minds. It was exhilarating and Khamier knew, just knew, that he could do these things for a reason. A purpose.

The only people he had not tried this mind power on was the shaman, and N'ilaani. The elderly shaman had watched silently from the dark of his hut as he witnessed Khamier's growth and progression. He had said nothing. But Khamier knew instinctively that the shaman was perhaps even more aware of what was going on than he himself. And he knew that his tricks would not work on him.

N'ilaani. She represented his greatest vulnerability, his deepest insecurities. He had nightmares- baiting and trapping her thoughts, making her fall in love with him. And he'd wake up after seeing her cold purple eyes, that lovely mouth that said, _I despise you for what you do and what you are._ These nightmares kept him from trying.

But he never stopped watching.

**Flashback to 42 BBY. Maul/Khamier is about 12 Standard Years old. **

The day had finally come.

After all these years, Khamier had somehow lulled himself into a sense of security, that N'ilaani's suitor would never claim her. She was now the eldest unmarried female in the village, and this thought had occupied his mind constantly. Soon, he would begin his manhood trials. Soon, he would be eligible to challenge her betrothed's claim. Soon, he could finally have her.

He knew that if it came to a duel, he was likely to win. Unless the betrothed was enormously strong, Khamier would defeat him, because he had grown prodigiously these past four years, in both size and strength. He was the largest inhabitant of the village now. He constantly trained his mind, as well. Everyday, he would push a boulder larger than himself as far as he could manage, and then move it all the way back with just the Force. He was sure he could win a duel.

But the suitor _did_ come, and that meant N'ilaani would soon be bonded.

Bonded. With a male other than himself.

Imagining it made Khamier groan aloud in anguish. He reviewed his choices. Giving up was not an option; anyone who is acquainted with a Zabrak knows that they are single-minded to the point of fanatic devotion, and once they have locked their minds on an idea, they will never let go. To him, there were only two choices, neither of which were particularly convenient.

The first choice was murder. The deed would be easy, but the consequences would be messy.

The second choice was rape.

_No,_ he corrected himself mentally. _Not rape. Seduction. _Finally and at last, he was going to attempt to use his new abilities on her. In his mind, he replayed the scene over and over, each scenario different from the last.

He chose option number two. It was, after all, the ultimate summation of his constant obsession.

It happened the day before N'ilaani's week-long bonding ceremony. As custom dictated, she had retreated into her hut, to spend a full day in complete solitude before she was to be bonded. The whole village turned out for the occasion; they watched from the square as she did the traditional bridal dance into her hut. Then everyone left to get on with the day's duties, and Khamier was left alone with his last-minute contemplations.

There is a point in everyone's life when the course of their destiny changes forever. For Khamier, it was the moment right before he slipped into the cool darkness of N'ilaani's hut.


	6. Chapter 6

**Flashback to 42 BBY. Maul/Khamier is about 12 Standard Years Old**

_N'ilaani, N'ilaani, N'ilaani…_

Her name was a tune in his head, a song of brightness and glory. He could listen to it forever, could taste it on his tongue and never want to taste anything else ever again, except perhaps her body. He had wondered for years, and he meant to know soon.

He entered her small clean hut like a snake gliding through grass; silent, unseen, smooth as the top note of a lute. Her smooth, bare back was facing him; she was standing over a carved stone tub of water, a basket of herbs in her hand. The sight of so much bright orange skin made him shiver. If she'd turned around to look at him, he would've been lost. He would've fled. But she didn't turn around, didn't even notice he was there. He'd made sure of that. Even before he'd entered her home, he'd reached inside with his mind. Her thoughts were encapsulated by his, and he sent calming waves toward her.

_Relax… _

Khamier stalked forwards, leonine, his eyes fixed upon her with the precision of a targeting device. N'ilaani was seated in the tub now, her torso leaning against one side of it, her entire body in relaxed repose.

He stood directly behind her, silent, his heart working like an engine in his chest, All his nerves were tingling as though before a fight, He felt marvelous… invincible.

He lifted his hands, contemplated them briefly. They were large and strong. They could crush a Zabrak's skull. N'ilaani noticed nothing; in fact, she seemed to be falling asleep. In one slow movement, Khamier brought his hands to hover on both sides of her neck.

And then he squeezed.

Her reaction was instantaneous. Her glorious form lifted from the bottom of the tub in protest and her arms flailed wildly, her mouth open but soundless. He gripped her harder, felt her grow weaker beneath his hands until her brilliant green eyes were half-lidded, and her arms had fallen back into the water. Then, when he felt that she was on the brink, he leaned over her head, brought his mouth to hers, and breathed.

As his life force flowed into her, N'ilaani's chest rose and fell, rose and fell. He had pushed her to the edge, but then brought her back. He withdrew his mouth and looked down at her.

"Why did you do that?" she breathed.

"Because now you are mine," he replied simply.

With little preamble he pulled his tunic over his arms and head, revealing a hard, lean muscular torso. Then he kicked off his worn breeches and was naked before her, as she was before him. He knelt by the side of the tub, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You know me?" he asked.

Slowly she nodded.

"I have loved you for so long," he said.

He lifted his hand to her head, and lightly touched her horn. It was so lovely. He felt himself growing tighter, tenser, and just a little bit breathless. He dropped his hand, letting his fingertips just barely skim her ochre colored nipples before finding that secret part of her body between her toned legs. Her breath hitched and she sat up a bit straighter.

Carefully, as though he had all the time in the world, his finger inched into her, N'ilaani closed her eyes and whimpered.

With excruciating slowness he began to move his finger in and out within her. It was hard initially; neither of them had ever had experience with intimacy, and her body was small and tight while he had an unusually large hand. But soon he worked in a second finger, and then a third, and she was gasping under his hand, her own grasping the sides of the tub hard.

It disconcerted him that she showed little to no resistance. With sudden cruelty he wrenched his fingers from her and, with his hands on her hips, lifted her easily from the tub. He slammed her against the nearest wall, holding her against it with the weight and press of his body. This elicited a startled yelp from her, and her purple eyes widened with alarm.

"You're afraid of what I'm going to do," he growled into her ear. It was a statement, not a question. "But I wonder… are you afraid of what _you_ will do?" He rubbed his hardness against her teasingly, watched with mean delight as she squirmed beneath him, her face torn between desire and terror.

For one glistening moment all was still, except for the rapid rise and fall of their chests.

And then in a brutal thrust he conquered her and she, effervescent before him, trembled and gave a gasp that seemed to suck in his very soul. Perhaps she did.

Khamier felt glorious. Her body, the object of his long drawn fantasies, was every bit as nubile and enjoyable as he imagined all these years, but there was another dimension to his pleasure. He felt the Force shake violently and undulate around him, like the seismic waves the ground makes when it shifts. It was raw and grating and it spurred him on, harder, faster, until he no longer felt himself breathing; he did not need to, supported as he was by the power of the Force.

As he felt his own power overflow the boundaries of his physical body and expand outward, N'ilaani threw her head back, her eyes shut tight, her body welded against his, her teeth clenched together as she took the full brunt of his unconscious Force shove. Feeling her moment of complete vulnerability, he reached out and held her mind, feeding her all the feelings he felt for her, the longing, the lust, the love.

_You will never love anyone else again,_ he ordered her. _You will never know pleasure except by me. _

This sent her over the edge and, moaning, she collapsed against him, her muscles alight with miniscule tremors, even as she nodded frantically. _Yes, yes, yes…_

Afterwards she succumbed to a deep sleep. Khamier placed her still form upon the sleeping mat in the corner of the hut and looked down at her for a moment. He had felt her mind shatter, splinter apart in a hundred thousand tiny shards; all of her past opinions, inhibitions, and goals all erased in his wake. Him- Khamier. She was consumed by him.

For as long as he could remember she had been the focus of his life, and now he was the focus of hers. He would be the crux of every action she ever undertook from now on, the motive behind all. She would eat for him, sleep for him, _breathe_ for him.

He froze, his complete grip over her overwhelming. And then he turned and fled.


End file.
